Daughters and Wives
by onion.sun
Summary: This is a little story about Mary, Kitty and some other characters after the end of Pride and Prejudice. The protagonist, this time, will be Mary. Read if you like.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, this is a story I thought of after reading_ Pride and Prejudice_ for the umpteenth time. I hope you like it. Oh, and please tell me what you think.

Chapter 1

The Bennet family had little to worry about, since two of the daughters had married so well. Jane and Elizabeth Bennet had wed gentlemen of great fortune and they were both residing in Derbyshire.

The entire village considered this spell of good luck a very rare instance, for it was enough for one daughter to marry well. Yet, they forgave the Bennet family's audacity on account of one very ill marriage; that of Lydia Bennet, the youngest, to Mr. Wickham, a foot soldier with little to recommend him but his deceiving character. The scandal their marriage had produced was thought to end the prospects of any other Bennet girl, but in this fortunate case, the respective husbands did not mind the frivolous affair and the unions had taken place without any impediment.

With three of his daughters married, Mr. Bennet considered that Kitty and Mary, his two other daughters would have a secure future as well. Surely, they would be welcome at Pemberley or at the Bingley household any time.

Mrs. Bennet, however, thought otherwise. Having succeeded so well with her two eldest daughters and having attributed this success only to her skills and encouragement, she concluded that in order to be fully satisfied she had to pursue this calling and find proper husbands for her other two deserving daughters.

She had never thought much of Mary or Kitty. She had never bestowed a specific adjective to their character, nor had she considered liking them more than the others. A mother's affection was limited when she had five girls.

More than ever, however, the house was left bereft from the three daughters' departure and so Mrs. Bennet doted most on the two left, who were in no particular mood to be thus paid attention to.

Kitty was engaging her time deciding on which acquaintance to form better in Meryton and was eagerly awaiting the return of the officers and Mary was once again reading judiciously from Homer, but understanding little.

Neither could afford to indulge their mother's little attentions that more often than not inconvenienced them in their chosen tasks.

Mary took great walks about the country side with her book and sat down by a tree in the hope that the understanding would fall down like an apple in her lap. She often left her book in the grass and closed her eyes as she slumbered in the sun light. When she woke up, she would read the same pages she had read so many times. The only difference was that each time, she thought something different about the contents of those pages. One could say that her mind progressed this way, but it was more her fancy that threatened to take over her than her intelligence and her will outgrew her intellect.

Kitty had been introduced to a Mrs. Smithson from town thanks to Maria Lucas who was a good friend of the lady's seamstress. Mrs. Smithson was the wife of a shoe maker who was often called into different towns with business. The lady was left alone a great deal of time and she took pleasure in visits from acquaintances because she had nothing else to fill her time with. Miss Lucas thought that meeting a young, pretty, garrulous girl like Kitty Bennet would surely ease her solitude. Miss Lucas couldn't entertain the lady herself, for she had to raise her brothers and sisters. Her mother was far too tired from visiting other mothers in the neighbourhood to take care of them.

Mrs. Smithson had heard of the Bennets and she knew they were a good sort of family. She had also heard of the advantageous marriages that had raised their position in society. Therefore, she was more than pleased to receive Kitty Bennet in her home. Though Kitty was a simple, unaffected girl that was prone to say four stupid things out of five, her family and connections raised her above other females that visited Mrs. Smithson's house. That is why the lady took an instant liking to her.

Every Thursday afternoon, Miss Bennet was invited to tea with Mrs. Smithson and if at the beginning Mrs. Bennet ignored this casualty and considered it mere charity on Kitty's part, at length she became interested in the affair because Kitty always talked about the fine lace and satin of the lady's dresses. She condescended to walk with Kitty to Meryton and meet Mrs. Smithson herself.

After discovering her husband earned 2000 pounds a year, she observed how refined the lady's manners were and how her house was so well-kept and charming, compared to other houses in town which had lost most of their beauty because of the smoke and dust.

She regretted not having been better acquainted before and inquired why the lady had not attended any of the balls.

'Oh, Mrs. Bennet, I am out of our society. I am no longer a young woman and I do not enjoy these trivial gatherings where people talk of nothing and dance. And since my husband is always away I cannot go either. When he is home, we do attend other little parties. He is an honourable guest at many such balls you know.'

'I do agree with you! Were it not for my daughters I would not be seen in a ball room myself. There is not much to do for us. So you say your husband is a guest at many balls?'

'Why, every spring we go to the Hertford dances. We always have a table there,' the lady said waving her fan lazily. Mrs. Bennet had indeed heard of these dances and like any respectable mother in the countryside wished nothing more but to manage to have her daughters attend the event.

She decided she should invite Mrs. Smithson to dinner without delay. The lady promised to join them as soon as her husband returned which luckily, would be in no time at all.

'You should feel very proud of this acquaintance, Kitty. I am sure Mrs. Smithson will be gentle enough to recommend us where it is necessary and I am hoping, my dear, that we will have the occasion to buy a new dress very soon!' her mother spoke excited as they walked through town.

'What can you mean, mama?' Kitty asked daftly, for allusions passed her mind easily without impression.

'Why, the Hertford dances of course! She might be kind enough to take you and Mary with her in spring. We will all go. I might even persuade your father with some exertion. He will argue with me as he always does, but you know in the end he will acquiesce,' she said pleased.

'But why can't we just go by ourselves, mama?'

'Oh, Kitty, you only talk nonsense! It would show very bad breeding indeed if we attended uninvited and without the proper connection to introduce us. This fine lady might do just the thing! Oh, only to think, my dear!'

Mrs. Bennet was in raptures at the possibility of gaining a friend with benefits, for, most of her intimate friends only served as idle gossipers, as she called them, but Mrs. Smithson's acquaintance would not be a waste of time.

At the same time, Mrs. Smithson herself pondered on the advantage of her new acquaintances. She would be closer to esteemed families like those of Bingley and Darcy. It would not be a waste of time.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone for the reviews! I never thought I would receive five:) This is the new chapter. I hope it's good enough.

Chapter 2

Mr. Bennet did not think he deserved this vexation and turmoil at his age. He had already lived to see many great and amazing things and he was not ready to stand another agitation. But his lady would not let him have his peace.

'But Mr. Bennet, you must see how fortuitous this new acquaintance is! If we do manage to get ourselves invited at Hertford it shall be a very good thing for our girls! I daresay, Mr. Bennet, it will be a good thing for us too. We should be seen more often in society as a respectable, well-bred family. After all, we deserve to be there, just as much as anyone else. And we should make what we can of it. We will never be seen as anything more than uncouth, country people, unless we go out more often.'

'My dear, this is the first time I hear you complain of our position at Longbourn. I thought being lady of this comfortable home and having two daughters richer than the entire shire would be good enough for you.'

'You and your continuous limitations, Mr. Bennet! If God has been so kind on us, why should we be ungrateful? We should take advantage of our situation.'

'By going to that sewer of society called town?' he asked.

'Oh, you talk as if you knew! You've only been once in Hertford!'

'And I saw enough to last me a lifetime.'

'Even if it is as you say it is,' she quickly replied, 'we will not settle there! We will just offer our daughters the opportunity of a better society.'

'Better society? You mean you want Mary and Kitty to be acquainted with the sublime characters of town? Aren't they silly enough as it is? They will only get worse in the company of sillier men.'

'You always give your opinions so decidedly, but when you are proved wrong you have nothing to say. You know as well as I that they could have much better husbands than here,' Mrs. Bennet insisted.

'Were it by me, Mrs. Bennet, I would have them both marry clergy men. That is the most they can aspire to and they would be very lucky indeed if a sensible man thought _they _were sensible.'

'You take great delight in slandering your daughters, I see!' cried Mrs. Bennet. 'And you have no compassion for me! Well, belittle all you may, Mr. Bennet, but if you think I will let my daughters marry some common man with nothing to recommend him, then you are very wrong. Why shouldn't they get good husbands like Jane and Lizzie did?'

'I'm afraid, Mrs. Bennet, that our family was blessed with this singular occasion only once. No man of Mr. Darcy's caliber would want a wife like Kitty. And even you, my dear, must understand that.'

But Mrs. Bennet would not be persuaded that Kitty and Mary could not aspire to very good marriages. She did not assume they would make good, gentle, skillful wives, but she harboured the view that they were now women of some fortune, that their connections far surpassed the gentry of all Hertfordshire and that they could dare to seek better matches than inferior country pastors.

* * *

Mr. Bennet was obliged to go on the farm, in order to avoid another diatribe on husbands, but Mrs. Bennet followed him to the gates to tell him her opinion. Only after he was lost from her sight did she cease her talking.

Kitty and Mary were picking herbs in the garden and they were discussing a similar subject, though they didn't share the keenness of their mother.

'Can you be sure of her?' Mary asked as she looked down to see an ant cross her fingers.

Kitty feigned a look of surprise.

'Can you be sure of her character?' Mary asked again.

'Mrs. Smithson is a very charming lady, but she is very humble and simple. She doesn't spend much, though she could.'

'If you say so.'

'And I'll have you know she likes me very much. Unlike some ladies in this neighbourhood she does appreciate a laugh or two. And she's very kind. I always trespass on her kindness.'

'Doesn't she want anything in return?' Mary asked.

'What could she want that we could give her?'

The girl remained silent and put another herb in her basket.

'You are right, there is nothing we could give her,' Mary said, thinking about the great estates of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.

'Though I am afraid she will find our house unkempt. Papa never bothers to hire good servants,' Kitty said fretfully.

'Oh, what is the use of keeping a house in order? There will always be a mess, no matter what,' Mary said listlessly. 'One always needs to dust something or repair a chair, it's very dull.'

'Well, Mary, that's how gentle people live, if you did not know.'

'Then we are not gentle people. And what is gentle anyway but an abstract word?' she questioned. 'I read a great deal of words that are abstract.'

'I don't wish to hear about your reading,' Kitty said grimacing. 'You always make it sound much more interesting than it really is.'

'Then I won't talk with you,' Mary said turning her back and continuing her work.

But Kitty could not stand silence for too long and seeing as Mary was her only companion she had to speak to her.

'Aren't you longing for spring?'

Mary shrugged her shoulders and chose not to answer.

'I am. The nature will bloom and all the balls will start! Mama thinks we have a good chance of going to Hertford this year!'

Mary looked over her shoulder at Kitty with a worried expression.

'Hertford? Why?'

'The spring dances! What else? Wouldn't it be marvelous, Mary?'

'No…it would be tiring. We would have to travel a long way just to go to a ball that's no different from the one at Meryton. Why bother?'

'But how can you be so obtuse? You compare a country ball with the dances! There will be much more handsome and well mannered gentlemen there.'

'I wouldn't vouch for it. Men are the same everywhere.'

'And who said that?' Kitty asked.

'I think it was a clever writer…' Mary said pondering. 'But it's true, nonetheless.'

'No, it's not. Just because it's written in a book doesn't mean it is valid.'

'Anyway, I do not wish to go,' Mary concluded.

'You'd rather stay home?' Kitty asked incredulous. 'You are so dull, Mary! You'll do nothing here but read. You're always so idle!'

'I am not,' Mary protested.

'Yes you are. All you do is read or walk around the meadows. That's called being idle.'

'No, I work in my mind. That's a different thing. And physical exertion is a waste, you know. I'm not idle if I think,' she said, hiding her face behind her hair.

'Yes you are, you just won't admit it,' Kitty insisted.

'I won't go, whatever you say,' Mary repeated firmly.

* * *

Mrs. Smithson and Mr. Smithson arrived at Longbourn on a fine afternoon and expected to be shown the house and the lands and to be introduced to everyone in the family. There was a great commotion until dinner. The servants walked about with more readiness and Kitty and Mary helped them set the table.

Mr. Bennet was brooding quietly behind a newspaper, trying to avoid the expense of too much gallantry. He talked a while with Mr. Smithson but found him to be generally narrow-minded fellow, eager to discuss only trade and prices which bored Mr. Bennet to a great extent.

Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Smithson only talked to be heard by themselves and they did not listen to their companion's replies. They hurried to surpass each other in everything; the house, the cooking, the servants, the husbands, the dresses they had particularly chosen to wear that afternoon.

But Mrs. Bennet had one chief thing to talk of which Mrs. Smithson could not equal. She had daughters. Kitty was met with much cordiality by Mrs. Smithson who asked her what a pretty, lively girl like her ever_ did_ in the country side, at which Mrs. Bennet replied:

'She takes exercise and keeps her complexion away from those nasty town airs.'

This reply would have been enough to silence Mrs. Smithson and perhaps admit defeat for the time being, but she received much pleasure from seeing that Mary was rather plain and coarse and that she needn't shy from observing that.

'I see the country side hasn't done much for her, poor thing,' she told Mrs. Bennet regarding Mary.

'On the contrary, the peace and quiet of the country encouraged her to read and study a great deal, so now she is very accomplished. She benefited greatly from this advantage, didn't you Mary?'

Mary felt painfully aware of the ridicule of the situation and chose to be awkward and say nothing, because she feared that if she opened her mouth she would show incontestable proof that she was nothing special. It would defeat the object since she tried so much to be special.

At dinner Mr. Smithson commented on the wood of the dining table.

'A bit rickety, if I may say so myself, but you can find a good sort of cherry wood if you call on my friend, Mr. Perkin. He has the best furniture in town and you if you fret, Mr. Bennet, that it may be too expensive then you should know he lets his customers make the pay in a year's length.'

'Oh we can afford new furniture!' Mrs. Bennet interrupted. 'Why, just the other day I was telling Mr. Bennet that we should get some new armchairs too and maybe a set of beds. I would like to improve some rooms, especially the guest room.'

'Do you have many guests here?' Mrs. Smithson inquired.

'Not as many as we'd like, but surely, many families make a point of coming to see us. Our cook makes some of the best porridges in the entire village,' Mr. Bennet defended herself.

''Do Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley come to visit often?'

'They were here this Christmas and they brought many wonderful gifts! Lizzie brought a very pretty shawl for Kitty and a very fine pair of silver-lined slippers for Mary, though she does not care for them so much. They will come very soon, in spring, I gather. Perhaps we shall go and see them,' Mrs. Bennet told her, smiling secretively. 'I was very glad we could have them here, though unfortunately they had to stay at the inn, in town. We had enough rooms, to be sure, but it would have been very improper to have us all fit into this tiny house.'

Mr. Bennet coughed loudly.

'This house is big enough to hold four families, on its good days,' he said, looking sternly at Mrs. Bennet.

'Of course, my dear,' she agreed.

'I think it's a charming home. It needs only little improvement to be very pleasing,' Mrs. Smithson said. 'I do hope that when your other daughters shall be at Longbourn we will have the occasion to see them.'

'Depend upon it, you shall be welcome here,' Mrs. Bennet assured her.

'We will call when I am in town, that is,' Mr. Smithson said. 'I get many commissions in the furthest of places and I am away a great deal. But that is how a man gains experience. Travelling suits me very much for I am a free spirit.'

'Oh, yes you are, my dear,' Mrs. Smithson agreed heartfully.

Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes and took another gulp of his wine.

'I wish we could travel more,' Mrs. Bennet said, looking at her two daughters. 'But Mr. Bennet is not much of a traveler. He much prefers the comfort of home. But I always say there is nothing wrong in traveling. I wish my girls could go and see as much as you do, Mr. Smithson.'

'Of course, it wouldn't be very proper for young ladies to go about so much,' Mr. Smithson rectified. 'They would get some very wild ideas.'

'Indeed no! But a little excursion from time to time does wonders,' Mrs. Bennet quickly reasserted.

'What do the young ladies think?' Mrs. Smithson asked.

'I think it would be wonderful if we could go to Hertford!' Kitty exclaimed.

Mary nudged her under the table, but she ignored the sign.

'Hertford? Why, you ladies have never been there?' Mrs. Smithson asked, feigning great surprise as she placed a hand over her chest to underline the shock.

'We've never had the opportunity. And we hear there are so many balls there!' Kitty went on.

'But we wouldn't want to travel there,' Mary quickly added.

'Oh, it's an easy distance dear!'

'It would still be tiring and there wouldn't be much to see.'

Mrs. Smithson raised a brow and looked at her husband who harboured a similar expression.

'I think my husband can tell you there is a lot to see and I have been there myself to vouch for it. You can never meet more good-natured people. Their tastes are very superior and yet they are so artless. There is no superciliousness about them. And there is so much to do there. We go to the theatre every night and we have many gatherings with smart scholars that discuss literature and philosophy. Surely, you who claim to be so accomplished, would be partial to that, Miss Bennet?'

'I never said I was accomplished,' Mary protested.

'We trust your opinion Mrs. Smithson,' Mrs. Bennet intervened, 'and I am sure that if we ever do get there, we will be as pleased as you were.'

'For now we have to content ourselves with the many advantages of the country side,' Mr. Bennet said. 'We are not in the means to travel.'

'Oh, it's a shame because spring is arriving soon and there will be many wonderful enjoyments. It is a pity for these young girls.'

The dinner ended with much talk about the misfortune of the Miss Bennets.

After four more dinners in the company of the Smithsons, Mr. Smithson finally took the hint that Mrs. Bennet dearly wanted her daughters to join them in Hertford and after much deliberation decided to propose a very daring scheme that would have to be approved by his wife first.

'Might we be so bold as to invite your daughters to join us this spring? It wouldn't inconvenience us at all. We long for some company, because sometimes we get very sick of our acquaintances and we just want to have some peace and quiet. And I believe they would enjoy the dances very much.'

'Oh, my dear, what a spurious idea! I am sure_ I_ would have never thought about it! You are ever so forward!' Mrs. Smithson remarked. 'I would have never presumed to invite the Miss Bennets. But now that you have, you have spared me the task for I am terrible at invitations.'

'Oh, Mr. Smithson you are too kind!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. 'To think about my poor daughters! That is uncommonly kind, Sir! What a wonderful thing it would be! I couldn't show my gratefulness in any other way than to recommend you to all my acquaintances!'

'It is a merry thought, Mr. Smithson but I am not sure whether I allow it,' Mr. Bennet spoke, rather upset.

'Oh, please papa! We shan't be in anyone's way!' Kitty moaned.

'Kitty, it was a good thing I did not let you go to Brighton. I should not let you go now either.'

'But papa! Please think how unjust this is! I am not nearly as careless as Lydia! And Mary will take care of me.'

'I will certainly not,' Mary muttered. 'I do not even wish to go.'

'My dear, you cannot be this harsh with them!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

'I agree with her, Mr. Bennet,' Mrs. Smithson interrupted. 'You can be sure we shall take very good care of your daughters. Otherwise you would be offending us if you considered we are not fit to take charge of your offspring. You should know we take great delight in chaperoning young girls.'

The women made so much noise and protested with such alacrity, the husband spoke so pompously of his wife's excellent skills as a matron and Mary was so weak in her disapproval of the scheme that Mr. Bennet had to agree with the plan in order to get some sleep that night.

It was decided then that in two weeks' time, the girls would travel to Hertford with the Smithsons. Mrs. Bennet insisted that she and her husband should go as well but Mr. Bennet was displeased with the outcome of the evening and was adamant about his staying home. His lady understood not to try anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, I am back with a new chapter I just finished. I don't know what to think about it, but maybe that is a good thing. In any case, thank you all so much for your reviews, they have been great and they made me smile, so thanks :)

In my story, Mary Bennet is a redhead and I hope no one is bothered by that. I mention it later in this chapter. There is no exact clue to her hair colour in the book but most would describe it as simple brown, because she is plain, but I would go a step further and say it could be red, because red hair was not considered very pretty back then and since she kept it up most of the times, no one could see whether it was pretty or if it made her prettier. Anyway, please read and tell me if you like it.

Chapter 3

Miss Mary Bennet was considered by the entire village a very wholesome girl. She was very plain, but not too plain as to offend prettiness. She was told she had just the right amount of decent plainness. She had a peculiar wisdom that could be understood only by her authors and therefore was unsuitable, but it was not forbidden in the country side because no man bothered to censure this wisdom and was indifferent to its substance. Her manner of address lacked any form of elegance, but she showed deference in front of her superiors. She was a quiet creature when she did not have something to say, but usually, at large gatherings she always thought she had something to say. Her sentences were flat, empty, well-rounded words that almost never had a consistent meaning. There were times when she became aware of this fault, but those times were ill-chosen because they happened to pass during a speech she was making in front of an audience and her pride bid her continue.

One could say Miss Bennet adored attention and wished nothing more than to be observed and one would be right. That was her object.

And so a description of her should end, cold, detached but realistic. Only, it's so very hard to blame a young girl for all these inadequacies without showing some mercy. This mercy would consist in reconsidering this girl's character and trying to unravel other traits unsuspected by others.

Her mother knew her very little, but thought she was a great reader, her father considered her a judicious pedant and her sisters believed she was harmless and very helpful.

None of them, however, saw the amount of contradictions that this little woman raised around her. It is natural to consider a man full of contradictions, but this young woman was far more contradictory than any other living creature in England.

And this sum of contradictions was noticeable only when one took the time to fulfil her wish and observe her.

Firstly and most importantly, though the entire parish thought that Miss Bennet was a most devoted Christian, in truthfulness, while she adhered to the Scriptures with heart and soul, she had a very strange understanding of them. She went to church every Sunday and prayed with her sister and her mother in the same pew but her thoughts, though settled on divinity, had nothing to do with what is called religion.

You see, Miss Bennet was almost a mystic, but it was ironic that she was not aware of it. No, she could never be aware that she was not the model of propriety that Christianity ordained, because no one ever noticed anything strange abut her beliefs and therefore no one bothered to check her.

But if she had been checked, one would have been astounded.

Miss Bennet believed in God as part of nature. She interpreted all religious texts as a proof of the Lord's omnipresence, but she took this very literally. She looked everywhere for God, because she suspected He was everywhere and therefore, her mission was to search for Him. Many a times, she saw a sign of divinity in a branch, or a nut, or even the footprints of a fox and she would treasure these sights for a long time and if divinity was encompassed in something material, one could always find that particular object hidden under her pillow.

She knew many passages of the Bible by heart. She understood very little Latin but she had the fortune of never being examined on that account. What she learnt by heart she understood well, but she could not reproduce any of it. Even so, all the excerpts that she did know spoke to her of the grandeur of the universe and nothing else. She saw creation and mystery in them. She sensed a sort of revelation of the spirit, a necessity of God, but nothing very concrete.

No one suspected this way of thinking because no one would doubt an accomplished girl who could quote the Bible; no one would question the simple thoughts of the Bible. But one should know that a truly narrow-minded, religious girl would not indulge in other lectures of any other kind like she did.

Had Miss Bennet read Spinoza, she would have found the echo of her beliefs. Her visions were complex in their simplicity, but only because she unconsciously borrowed small morsels of philosophy from different equitable thinkers. Her Christian paganism, a contradiction in terms, showed once again what a strange, contradictory creature she was.

She performed different rituals at different moments of the day like any other person, but while man does not endow these moments with any sacred thought, Miss Bennet considered these small actions all that was beautiful and simple and the work of God.

She liked to pick up strange herbs and boil them in hot water, after which she would drink the water as if it was holy water from the church. She also believed in many superstitions that, to her mind, did not at all insult her Christianity, for she thought that the only reason for which superstitions were not engraved in the Bible was that they were so commonplace and so innate to any human nature that they were like unwritten rules that needn't even be mentioned.

She was an expert in wedding and funeral customs and traditions and she had thought once of writing a small book on them but she had changed her mind quickly.

Whenever she took walks in the meadows and decided to nap she positioned herself in such a way as to face north and she lay in the grass with her fists tightly clenched, as if she was grasping her dear life.

She liked to chew parsley in the evening before going to bed and during stormy nights she hung some garlic over the windows.

If she ever felt she had a cough she drank plenty of beet root juice even though it made her feel very sick.

Whenever she stole out in the middle of the night for a glass of water, she would make a cross over her bedroom door.

When the sun set, she chased the orange globe until it almost sank and when it was about to sink she whispered 'Rise tomorrow like today'.

If she ever saw a raven cross her head, she felt the following day it would rain.

These small gestures went almost unnoticed by the larger crowds. And they went unnoticed by herself as well.

Now that Kitty was alone with her more often, she would come to see more of this behaviour and would give an opinion on it. The opinion was never formed, however. There were small attempts, but they were meant as jokes. She generally considered her sister a very odd creature and did not think her behaviour was unusual, it was only odd in the way Mary was odd which was only natural of her. It was like her manner of walking and speaking suited her demeanour and fashion and while Kitty did not agree with either of them, she was reluctant to do more than jest on them.

She was far more occupied with other people and other characters and considered that her sister would turn sensible later in life when _real _values would be instilled in her.

What were the real values Kitty treasured?

No one really knew, but she believed there was a set of _real _values that one ought to have. Among them was marriage but others were of a more complex nature. Whenever she tried sorting them out, she got very tired and gave up. But she had a firm belief there were at least twelve.

Mary disagreed with her and told her values always changed, but she did not believe that herself. She only hoped that was true, because it was far better for things to change gradually.

Although, at the same time, she insisted that some things should never change. Like the colour of violets and the cover of books, or the spring weather and the dark, deep ponds in the forest.

Kitty then replied that she was being silly and incoherent and she should try thinking less. Mary would then launch in a set of more incoherent arguments and the conversation would never end.

It is then obvious that these two young women would not get along fairly well if they had to travel by coach, along with a very garrulous Mrs. Smithson and a listless Mr. Smithson. If they had to sit next to each other for a whole of three hours, then they would rather be moderately silent. As for Mrs. Smithson, she did not mind doing most of the talking and receiving feeble signs of agreement from the sisters. Mr. Smithson, in want of a distraction, was trying to light his pipe but his wife kept chiding him about it, saying it would be very stuffy inside the carriage and he'd better go sit next to the coachman if he planned on drinking tobacco.

Kitty tried to be civil and said that she wouldn't mind the smoke, but Mrs. Smithson argued that their dresses would develop a smell. At that Kitty hesitated indeed.

Mrs. Bennet had made sure to pack them their finest shawls and dresses and she had added two new gown balls. Those gowns could not afford smelling bad. They were both yellow and very pretty, but they only complimented Kitty Bennet's complexion and hair. She had the good fortune of having a rather sallow yet not unpleasant face and a wild tame of chestnut hair that rounded up her features perfectly. Her only real defect was her upturned nose but many families in the village made sure never to mention it to her. It had been mentioned a couple of times in her youth and she had been so devastated to hear it, that it was unanimously agreed that they should just ignore it from then on.

But the yellow gown did not look good at all with Mary's red locks. She was unfortunate that she lived in a century where red hair was considered very unattractive. As such, even though sometimes the sun rays lit her hair and made it resemble a rich horse mane either there wasn't anyone around to appreciate this feature or the people who were, found that it gave her a sickly, vulgar appearance.

Mr. Bennet, perhaps, was the only one rather fond of her hair because it reminded him of his own red shock that he had sported in youth with some pride and his mother's maroon locks that she hid under a white bonnet.

But beyond her family, few men could express approval on her hair. There never was complete approval on that part.

But Mary was not aware that the dress did not suit her and she was just as excited as Kitty about wearing it, because even though she would never confess it, new garments always made her smile. It was not necessarily the article of clothing itself that pleased her, it was the feeling of having something new.

She fell asleep half-way through the journey, so when they arrived in Hertford she did not manage to see much of it because she was very tired. This frustrated her for a while, but she was careful not to let it show because she wanted to be poised and serious.

What she did see was a multitude of closely knit houses with brown roofs. There was also a squalid but colourful and cheerful market. There were a couple of grey-looking treetops beyond the houses but she did not try to assume what that meant. The cobbled streets smelt like a pig sty. She felt like a wet cat in the middle of running carts and busy people.

They arrived at the small and cosy pension where Mr. and Mrs. Smithson usually checked in every time they were in Hertford. It so happened that the landlady was a distant relation of Mrs. Smithson and she was more willing to be civil and kind to the Smithsons than to most families. She had a heavy step and liked to talk very loud. That is why when the sisters entered the parlour they almost jumped when they heard someone shriek.

'It's just Miss Bartley, my dearies, don't be shy!' Mrs. Smithson chided them. 'She's a very wholesome woman. I say, Miss Bartley, will you introduce yourself to my very pretty guests? I have brought two exemplary girls to your prestigious abode! They're newcomers.'

Miss Bartley came out of an adjacent room and took off her dirty apron and rushed to shake hands with Mrs. Smithson.

'Ah, but these are fine ladies! I thought I'd have smaller people!' she yelled. 'One is very pretty, the other one looks very thoughtful. You ladies need some distraction, don't you?! I bet you can't wait to see the town! You're very lucky to have Mrs. Smithson as your companion, there's none the better! But where has Mr. Smithson gone to?'

'He is down to buy a newspaper.'

'Is he now?! He won't find anything good in it! I have given up on reading those silly things, they tell you nothing, nothing at all. I can provide better news by myself, I can tell you! But here I am, talking of newspapers! Welcome my friends, welcome!'

The two sisters introduced themselves rather shyly and expressed a wish to go remove their luggage. After they found their room they did not come out until tea.

When they stepped down in the evening, Miss Bartley was in the kitchen so they sat in the drawing room and talked to Mrs. Smithson at leisure. From time to time they heard her pass in the corridor, but she was yelling at a servant girl, not at them, so they didn't mind. Mr. Smithson was sleeping in an armchair close by. The other four guests at the pension were playing bridge in a corner by the window; two elderly ladies and two elderly men.

One of them turned his head to look at Kitty and then whispered to one of the ladies 'very thin girl'.

At this, Kitty drew up her shawl and rested her head against the sofa. She dearly wanted to open a window but both Mr. and Mrs. Smithson had told her that would never do and it would bring the draft and dust from outside.

Mary was folding and unfolding her fan and watched the shadows that it made on the carpet as Mrs. Smithson told her about a quaint little carriage she had seen going up the road.

'I saw a woman in it, very fine, very well-dressed, silver earrings you know, but in her lap she had the most odious creature! A pug, a little dog the size of my purse. And he meowed like a cat!'

Mary laughed a bit, but Kitty rolled her eyes and kept staring at the window she wanted to open.

That is how their first night in town transpired, as the clock chimed away the hours, as they drank their glasses of wine in front of the fire, as they untangled their hair before going to bed, as Mary got up in the middle of the night and tried opening the door but found it locked. Kitty held the key under her pillow. She walked around the room for a while, before falling on the bed tired.

In the morning, Mary refused to get up early because she had had a bad night and therefore when the sun rays pierced the silence of the room, she pulled the curtains angrily and growled in her sleep like a strange creature.

'There is no logical reason for me to get up,' she had said. 'No reason.'

Kitty was much more active. She decided to let Mary lie. She would walk around town with Mrs. Smithson. She wouldn't be able to show her enthusiasm in the company of an elderly woman but she could at least stop worrying about how intelligent she appeared to her sister and simply take in the air of town and all it had to offer.

So when Mary finally opened her eyes to greet the day, she found her sister's bed empty. A small note on her pillow informed her that she was in town and she'd better have breakfast.

Mary felt a very bitter taste in her mouth, like she had swollen an entire onion. She finally realized she was in Hertford and she couldn't go back.

Her head swayed slightly and her feet pulled her towards the bed, but she gathered her strength with determination and she half-opened the curtains.

The view that welcomed her was more rustic than urban which dispelled some of her worries. Their room opened to the back of the establishment. She saw a pig sty that was empty and a narrow muddy road full of children, walking about, screaming and playing. She saw a tall beech trapped between the roofs of two houses across the street and her mouth quivered at the foul image. She wished she could touch the bark of the tree, because she believed it was a good thing to soothe trees, or at least attempt it.

Her luggage was half-open and the boxes spat out large pieces of cotton and book spines. She knelt on the floor and opened her bags and settled everything on the bed.

Only after two more hours did she come down in the drawing room. It was already noon and Kitty still wasn't back. She heard the bells from church far off.

She traced her steps back down the corridor and tried finding the kitchens but it was no easy task. She felt very listless and carefree, but at the same time, a great weight lay on her shoulders, pulling her head down.

She stopped when she saw a small, red door at the back of the hallway. It was a back door. It probably led to the gardens and the sty. She opened it quickly and slipped outside.

There weren't many children playing about anymore. They were probably home, at dinner, she thought.

Mary had never enjoyed fences. She looked at the brown pieces of wood stuck together in front of her, the one encumbrance in her path, the one thing she couldn't jump over. At home she could jump over some shrubberies and only get a few scratches, but the fence was too tall.

She approached quietly and climbed up a stair to look yonder.

Mary was patient when there was something to see. Even though it was close to noon, there was still some bustle on the street and there were still extraordinary things to watch.

One of them came in the form of a woman and a man.

He was in a carriage and he was following a young lady that was walking on the street.

'If you would just stop – it's not very practical what you are doing,' he was saying gravely. The door of the carriage was open and his hand was extended towards the lady.

He looked like a very troubled man, the kind of troubled man that had drunk too much Sangria and was finding it hard to wake from his drunkenness. His shirt was dishevelled and his waistcoat was unbuttoned.

'I will never stop and I will never get in that carriage again,' the lady was saying angrily. She was walking as if she had a clear destination in the distance and her pace was brisk. Her hands looked very course for a young lady. Her head was hidden under her parasol. Her golden curls were now lacklustre and her bright eyes were stormy.

'Why not?'

'Why not? Why not? You dare too much, Sir!'

'Quiet now. Don't be a woman, people might be watching,' he said looking around wearily. He noticed the young girl that was watching them over the fence.

'Don't be this, don't be that! I'll be whatever I want! You can't oblige me! And you have great nerve to tell others what they should be. You presume people act like this or that, but _you_ are the one who should worry about your character,' she told him.

'I'll worry, I'll worry. I always worry. Now get in dear, your shoes will be torn,' he said carelessly.

'You'll worry?! How can you think I'll get in? How? He was a man! A naked man in your room!'

'Lower your voice woman!' he commanded angrily.

'How can you explain that?' she asked loudly, ignoring his beckoning.

'He was a friend from college, just a friend. He is very ill. I explained it to you.'

'That's why you two were taking opium? Is that why?! Your servant told me a girl had just left! She said it was a painted girl! Have you no shame?!'

'You say opium as if it's the devil,' he said rubbing his eyes. 'There's no shame in meeting a girl. Even if she was painted. It would be prejudice to say she was a low woman. '

'Have you no shame for _me_ then?! You know papa disapproves of you greatly! You know how he hates you! You give him reason to think of you badly, very badly. He has every right doesn't he? I shouldn't protest anymore when he says that you are a scoundrel! You always give me reason to dislike you Eric! Oh, I dislike you very much!'

'Oh, alright, just calm yourself, will you? I didn't do anything, it was just a little bit of fun with a friend. I would call it reckless, but there was no meaning in it.'

'Is that how you lead your life?! Without meaning?'

'Most of the times, dear, but that's not my fault. It's life that's doing all this. This morning was very dull, for example. But I would really appreciate it if you could stop talking so loud.'

'Don't tell me how to talk! You have no right after what you did.'

'You like imagining things, I know that, but nothing happened.'

She had stopped close to where Mary was eavesdropping and she seemed ready to slap the man called Eric.

But at the last moment she turned around and hurried in the opposite direction.

'Molly!' he called feebly after her.

'Let me be!' she bellowed.

His hand fell to the ground. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He then pulled the carriage door and looked around the street. His eyes met Mary's.

She had heard everything, he supposed. It was not a terrible thing that she had, because she was a complete stranger. She probably did not understand anything either. But should they meet in some ball room, would she bring up the matter? She had no reason to, more so since she was a woman. And women had no business with intimate affairs. She would not bring up something misunderstood, something like street talk.

He thought she would look away ashamed after hearing everything, but she continued to stare at him. She was not blushing and she did not look embarrassed at all. She seemed very comfortable watching him, even though he was looking at her as well.

Her look was very studied, like she was trying to read a difficult book in his countenance. He was trying to see what she was seeing in him, but he accomplished nothing. Her small hands were holding the fence and her chin rested on the wood.

He thought she was a servant girl. He nodded towards her and yelled at his driver to go on.

Mary watched him as he disappeared in the dust. She was utterly bewildered yet captivated at the same time. She had heard some harrowing details a young, respectable lady should never hear and she had felt disgusted and bothered like anyone would, but beyond those common feelings she had felt a very absorbing interest for the couple. Her imagination was a fearsome weapon against her. She wanted to know the story behind the words. He seemed a fascinating creature to her, the kind of shabby character depicted in some controversial novels that the chaplain had forbidden. He was the kind of fool, the kind of man who fooled with his life. A man who did that with his life was a good subject of observation. He seemed like a man with few principles. In the books, it always sounded like the hero invented his own words. She wondered if he did that, if his speech was so well thought-out in his head. But if she looked back on it, he had no coherent speech to speak of.

She tried imagining the story between the man and the woman. The lovers who had such uncommon, curious names! Molly was a very strange name to her, the kind of name you would give a cat or a sheep. And Eric sounded like delicate, refined china or maybe a wave at sea.

'Mary!' yelled a voice that was familiar to her. It was Kitty who had come back from town.

She reluctantly left the fence and entered the pension. There would be much talking inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello everyone, this is the new chapter. I am sorry it took so long to post but I didn't really have a computer for a while. It was pretty sad. I tried fixing it myself, but it just got worse. Figures. But now it's alright, thank heavens:) Thank you everyone for the support and thank you _kggirl21_ for the review.

Now on with the chapter!

Chapter 4

In the drawing room, the two women shone, covered in dust, their cheeks red from exercise.

The yellow light of noon gave them a faded air and the violet shadows under Kitty's wet eyes elongated them to the point where she resembled a real cat.

She had thrown three large packages on the small coffee table. The wrapping was red and they were all tied with string.

Mrs. Smithson quickly took off her shawl and sprawled herself in a chair nearby, trying vehemently to fan herself.

'What were you doing in the back?' her sister asked, irritated. 'Keeping company to the dogs? Oh, I have so much to tell you, Mary!'

'It is a shame, dear, that you couldn't wake up and go out with us,' interrupted Mrs. Smithson. 'I know that in the country side you were in the habit of sleeping till noon, but here Mary you must abide by our rules, unless you want to miss being acquainted with all the good people. We met some very nice young men along the way and we even ran into the Bronhills, an excellent family. Well, it was just Mrs. Bronhill and her son, but we did not mind.'

'Yes, they were very agreeable, especially the son,' Kitty interrupted. 'Mr. Bronhill is a banker and his son will go into business after he finishes his studies. He is very charming and handsome and he speaks German perfectly. You know there are a great deal of people who speak French, but have you met any that speak German?'

'He spent a year in Bavaria and he learnt the language quickly!' Mrs. Smithson added, bidding the servant that had just come in to bring some tea.

'He seems very interesting, I'm sorry to have missed him,' Mary said, still thinking about what had previously happened.

'But you will not entirely miss him. We were invited by Mrs. Bronhill to a small dinner party. It is the day after tomorrow. I hope you will be awake for this one, Mary,' Mrs. Smithson said, chiding her.

'Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world,' she said pensively.

Kitty ran upstairs with her packages and Mary followed her, meaning to tell her what she had seen and heard.

'Kitty,' she said after closing the door behind her, 'the most wondrous thing happened. You know I don't usually listen in on people or I try not to, I mean it isn't such a good thing to do…'

'Get on with it, Mary, what happened?' Kitty asked, pulling off her stockings.

'Well, I was in the back yard and I witnessed this fight between two lovers and ever since I saw them I can't get them out of my head. I don't know anything else about them.'

'Oh, la! Were they some petty town people? Maybe she was a seamstress and he was a chimneysweep! You'd better watch out, they're very common around here and they look just like gentle people. You can get easily fooled. That's what Mrs. Smithson told me.'

'I don't think they were. I mean he…he seemed like a worldly person. A very worldly one. A chimneysweep wouldn't take opium and he couldn't afford to pay women, could he?'

'Oh, Lord! How do you know that?'

'The woman accused him of all that…' Mary said, thinking about the naked friend too. But she decided not to tell Kitty about it.

'Oh, but then he is one of those scoundrels! Maybe rich ones, that like to squander their money. Was he handsome?'

'Generally so,' Mary said, uneasy.

'And was he married to that girl?'

'No, but I think they had some serious relations. She seemed genuinely upset,' Mary said.

'Ha! Maybe _she_ thought it was serious. But oh well, men will always do that sort of thing, they will never be satisfied with one girl. But he takes opium!'

'Wait, isn't it worse that he wasn't faithful to the girl?'

'Oh, come on Mary, men can't always be faithful. It's not right for them. They would be considered stupid.'

'So you would like that?'

'Like what?'

'For a man to cheat on you?'

'Well, he wouldn't because no one would cheat on _me._ Men cheat on other kinds of women.'

'Oh, but what if he did?' Mary asked annoyed.

'Oh, Mary! It's not like they were married!' Kitty protested.

The argument lasted for another half of an hour until Kitty tired and told Mary that she would take a nap. Mary had to leave the room and go downstairs where Mr. Smithson was reading the paper and Mrs. Smithson was chatting about their trip in town.

Mary reclined in a chair by the fireplace and started reading. But as she flipped the pages, she imagined what it would be like to meet the couple. She would have liked to read about them. Instead she was reading a history book. But maybe she would see them again. After all, this town wasn't so big. But if she did not, she would like to know how their story ended. Even if she wasn't a great gossiper, she thoroughly enjoyed delving into other people's lives.

* * *

The dinner party at the Bronhills would have been something ordinary and pleasant for Mary. Both she and Kitty were looking forward to meet this young Mr. Bronhill properly and Mrs. Smithson wanted to see if the Bronhills had acquired the new china they had been boasting. Her eyes were searching for anything that resembled Delft porcelain. She did not find anything of the like, but she did notice they had changed most of the dining room wallpaper and the furniture in the parlour had been repainted in dismal darker tones, which pleased her, if only a bit.

Mr. Smithson and Mr. Bronhill senior started discussing the war with France and, against his wife's wishes, Mr. Bronhill decided they should have some coffee and cakes too.

Mr. Bronhill junior was a pleasure to both ladies, although Mary suspected some of his studies were more a matter of decorum. He seemed to like Kitty very much. He was tall, but rather coarse in his manner of walking. But he had a witty way of conversing. He had not read much, knew Latin and German by heart, Mary would say, and could calculate big sums without using a single sheet of paper. But when Mary asked him if he had read Goethe he replied that he had not had the time. Then he asked if this "Goethe fellow" was any good. Mary would have been a little bit scandalized, but she was forced upon a new acquaintance the moment they entered the dining room.

'This is my sister, Miss Molly Bronhill,' young Bronhill told Mary and Kitty. The girl bowed and smiled to them both. She was uncommonly pretty and polite to them, but Mary, for some reason, turned as white as a sheet.

She took the girl's hand, her own shaking, and could barely find her voice to say anything.

'It seems your sister is speechless in front of Molly's beauty! We've seen a dozen men act the same!' young Bronhill joked, laughing.

'Are you alright, Miss Bennet?' Molly asked, concern shadowing her eyes.

Mary nodded her head slowly.

'Do you need to sit down?' she asked.

Mary finally found her voice, although it was hoarse.

'Don't you remember me, Miss?'

Molly's eyebrows furrowed. She seemed confused.

'Remember you? I am sorry Miss Bennet, I have never seen you before. But I am very glad to make acquaintance.'

Mary's nerves slowly came to her. She looked back on the scene in the alley and realized that only the man called Eric must have noticed her well enough. Molly did not seem to recall her face.

Perhaps this was a good thing, she thought. Maybe Molly would feel very embarrassed or sad if Mary told her the truth. And of course she could not tell her in front of her family. She had told Eric that her father did not think well of him at all. He wasn't a favourite with the Bronhills. Therefore it probably wasn't a proper subject in this house. It wouldn't be in any. She reprimanded herself for having spoken on impulse. Now maybe Molly thought she was insensible. She dreaded this.

'I am sorry, Miss Bronhill, I don't know what came over me, I felt quite ill.'

'Jonathan, fetch for the physician!' Mrs. Bronhill yelped as she and Molly settled Mary on the sofa. 'Oh, Miss Bennet, was it the coffee? I told my husband it was very wrong!'

'No, please do not trouble yourselves, I am fine,' Mary said trying to get up. 'There is no need for a doctor.'

'But what happened, Mary?' Kitty asked alarmed.

'I…just had a dizzy spell, that is all. I lost my balance. I probably didn't eat too well today.'

'Well, now that you are alright, we should just give her some wine, Mrs. Bronhill, what do you say? I find it is always an ailment,' Mrs. Smithson added, already ready to call Jonathan, the servant.

'If it were alright by you, I would just like some water,' Mary said shyly.

Throughout the rest of the evening, everyone kept a close watch on Mary lest she should have another "dizzy spell". But Mary was only watching Molly. She was such a pretty, lovely creature. She seemed very different from the girl she had seen in the alley. She was charming and elegant and poised and she seemed to bloom right before her eyes. Nothing like the woman who had seemed so angry and jealous.

Molly seemed to like Mary as well. They found themselves talking about subjects of general interest, although Molly held the conversation more than Mary because the latter was never good at talking with people she had never met before.

'I would love to see more of the country side. I have an aunt that lives around Exeter. She has a small house, very quaint. But I am rarely allowed to visit. Though, I do feel best there. I just love nature,' Molly said.

'I agree heartily. Nature is the greatest artist of them all. I love it with all my heart. I am glad to be living in Hertfordshire.'

'I would love to see it, Miss Bennet.'

'Oh, but then you should come and visit!' Kitty interrupted. 'It would make our family very happy. We rarely have good company there.'

'That is not true, Kitty. People in the countryside are a lot friendlier and you know it,' Mary said duly.

'I agree, Miss Bennet. They seem less occupied, their manners are not studied. And they're never dull,' Molly said laughing. 'They amuse me with their wonderful stories.'

After dinner they repaired to the drawing room and while Mrs. Smithson and Mrs. Bronhill were arguing about the cost of satin gowns and whether they were appropriate as wedding dresses, Mary and Molly continued their conversation. Kitty was walking about the room with Mr. Bronhill, but every now and then, she would come to the two and ask them impolite questions.

Mr. Bronhill seemed very amused by it.

'Miss Bronhill, have you given your heart to anyone?' Kitty asked. 'Or are you engaged?'

'Kitty, that is very blunt,' Mary chided her.

'Oh, I…' Molly began, her eyes darkening, 'I would rather keep that to myself, Miss Bennet.'

Mary gathered she was still thinking of that man, Eric.

When the Bennet girls and the Smithsons finally took leave of the Bronhills, Molly made Mary promise she would visit and perhaps write. Mary promised she would though she doubted she would have the courage.

'This Friday the Balls begin!' Kitty said as they climbed in the carriage. 'I cannot wait to wear my new gown! Maybe Mr. Bronhill will be there. He's sure to be. Why wouldn't he be invited? He is very fine, isn't he? Very handsome. I think he liked me. And Miss Bronhill she was very pretty, wasn't she?'

'Oh, yes, very pretty,' Mary agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi, I have finished the new chapter. I hope it's fairly decent. Thank you for the reviews and to **Margaret and kggirl21 **for their kind words. To **kggirl21**, Eric and Molly aren't brothers, sorry :)

So without further ado...

Chapter 5

Miss Mary received an invitation to tea three days later. It was from Molly Bronhill. She accepted heartily. When she arrived at their residence, however, she noticed Molly was walking out of the house, tying up her bonnet.

'But aren't we having tea, Miss Bronhill?' Mary asked.

'Oh, Miss Bennet, I thought the weather was so lovely we'd much better have a walk.'

Mary acquiesced and told the carriage groom that she would return in an hour or so at the same spot.

'Do you enjoy walking, Miss Bennet?'

'Very much. I can clear my head better when I walk.'

'Clear your head? Do many ideas torment you?' Molly asked smiling.

'Well, there are so many things to think about.'

'And what do you chiefly think of, Miss Bennet?'

'Please, call me Mary. I like to think about God.'

'God?' Molly exclaimed, almost chuckling. 'Well, I admit I am religious, if I can say so, but I hardly ever think of Him.'

They stopped at a cake shop to buy two buns of chocolate which they ate as they walked around the town square.

'I mean there isn't a lot to think about Him since we know nothing for certain,' Molly explained.

'Oh, but there's a lot to know.'

'Pray how?'

'Well, everything in this world can provide it,' she said.

'You are a philosopher, Miss Mary,' Molly replied. 'I would like to be as fond of God as you are, but I get terribly bored during sermons.'

Mary had nothing to say to that.

'Tell me more of your sisters, Mary.'

'Well, the eldest, Jane, is the wife of Mr. Bingley.'

'That I knew. But what is Mr. Bingley like?'

'He's…well he's very friendly and kind, goes everywhere, sees everyone. He cares a lot for Jane. He treats everyone with the cordiality.'

'He sounds a bit boring, but do tell me more.'

'They live in Derbyshire, close to the Pemberley estate, where my sister, Elizabeth is mistress.'

'She is married to Mr. Darcy?' Molly exclaimed surprised.

'Yes.'

'Well, he is a fine man! Your sister is very lucky. I hear he has a great fortune and is very handsome.'

'Yes, I suppose he is. But he is very arrogant and proud, or at least he used to be.'

'Rich men can afford to be proud,' Molly replied.

'I don't think so. No one has the right to belittle others,' Mary contradicted.

'But power, Mary, you must admit does establish what is due to who.'

'Only on the surface,' she said nonchalantly.

'You have very firm beliefs for one so young. You'll change them when you grow older.'

'I hope not,' was the answer she received. Molly was disconcerted. Was Miss Bennet a pedant? No, she refused to believe that, just yet.

'Well, now that we have talked about sensible things, tell me, is there someone in Hertfordshire that you cherish?'

Mary hesitated. 'No, not really.'

'No one at all? Has no one caught your eye?' Molly asked amazed.

'Well, no, there aren't many young men anyway.'

'But you must have liked at least_ one_ young man!'

'I did once,' she said pausing. 'He was a clergyman.'

'And what happened to him?'

'He got married,' Mary said serenely, no trace of any feeling on her face.

'Oh, well…that must have upset you.'

'Maybe a little, at first. But then I never really knew him,' she replied.

'And you only like clergymen?' Molly asked, teasing.

'I don't know, probably not.'

'Well, on Friday we shall see each other at the ball. And I will show you some handsome fellows,' Molly said smiling.

'Oh, you don't have to show me, I will see them myself,' Mary replied bluntly. Molly smiled benevolently, thinking this young girl would get in trouble with that sort of speech.

Mary was very tempted to ask about the man called Eric. But she did not have the courage to talk about him.

'Will you be expecting anyone?' Mary asked finally.

'Pardon?'

'The man you like,' Mary explained.

Molly blushed deeply and looked away, saddened by some recollection.

'You put things very bluntly, Mary. I am not expecting anyone. Although, I confess I do like a young man. Only he is a very bad sort. I shouldn't like him at all.'

'Oh, who is he?'

'It doesn't matter, he is just a cad. You would despise him, Miss Bennet. You with your firm principles.'

'But you care about him, even so?'

'Well, maybe a little. But I won't very soon.'

Before they could continue the conversation, they were interrupted by the arrival of Molly's brother, who joined their walk.

* * *

On Friday, Kitty and Mary were getting ready to leave for the ball. Mrs. Smithson was making the last arrangements, fixing the last flowers in Kitty's hair and making sure Mary's hem wasn't stained.

'Don't eat too much girls, it is not couth or ladylike at all. Be careful with the dresses, don't get them dirty. And don't lose your fans, I bought them from France, they are worth a fortune.'

Mary was now seeing the first time the inadequacy of her dress. It looked very ill on her. She looked out of place, as if she was a peasant girl. Or some vulgar being.

'Mary, stop looking in the mirror so much, you're worse than Lydia,' Kitty muttered pushing her away to arrange her shawl.

'Well, I don't like the way I look,' she complained.

'You look fine. No one will notice if you don't look your best,' Kitty told her indifferently. 'It's a ball, there will be too many girls anyway.'

When the carriage stopped in front of the Ton, they got out quietly and followed Mr. and Mrs. Smithson up the stairs. The building looked like it needed new paint. The stairs and the banister were eaten by termites.

They walked into the entrance hall where the town's wealthiest families were receiving everyone with ceremony.

A butler presented them to the families and after they greeted each other and exchanged pleasantries, they were allowed to enter the Ball rooms.

The music was already playing, but no one was yet dancing.

Mr. Smithson quickly left the ladies to themselves and the three of them sought company with the Bronhills, who had arrived earlier and were already seated.

Mary tried to find Molly with her eyes but Mr. Bronhill quickly dispelled her hope, informing her that their daughter was having a bad spell and would absent the ball.

Mary sat down and looked around the room with curiosity. Everything was shining, from the tall red curtains, to the goblets of water. The chandelier was throwing rays of soft light on the people's faces. She heard the sound of dresses kissing the floor.

Mr. Bronhill the younger invited Kitty to dance and they repaired to the dancing room.

'Mary, go with your sister and sit about in the back. Mayhaps someone will ask you to dance,' Mrs. Smithson advised her.

'No, thank you, ma'am, I'd much rather stay here.'

'No, no you'd better go, I have many things to talk to Mrs. Bronhill and the other ladies.'

Mary had to oblige, though reluctantly.

She entered the dancing room which was already quite crowded with young couples and found a chair in the back.

As she watched the couples dancing, she couldn't help tapping her foot to the cheerful melody.

Suddenly, she noticed from the corner of her eye a small door opening and a little girl, holding a very large, heavy tray.

She looked far too feeble to be handling that sort of crockery. When she passed Mary's corner she managed to spill a bit of punch on Mary's dress.

'Oh, missus, I am so very sorry!' the girl exclaimed, bowing down with the tray. She tried taking out a handkerchief she had in her pocket but failed.

'Oh, Miss, let me clean it up!' she said hastily.

'Do not alarm yourself, you did no harm,' she said looking at the visible stain on her yellow dress. She took the handkerchief from the little girl and tried wiping it as best as she could.

'Here, let me take that tray from you.'

'No, Miss! I must do it, I am the maid. Mama put me in charge!'

'Yes, well, would you like to spill more punch on other young ladies?' Mary asked, smiling. 'Let me have it now. I will help you.'

She took the heavy tray from the little girl and walked with her towards the tables at the other end of the room.

As she set down the silverware and the cups, she couldn't possibly know that someone had observed her.

A young man had walked into the room, looking for Molly Bronhill. She was not there. He took out his pocket watch and sighed with boredom. He wondered why she had not come. Was she avoiding him at all costs?

Well, that was stupid and childish of her, he thought.

As he walked about the room, he noticed a figure in the back, carrying a large tray. She was wearing a very soppy yellow dress.

When the girl turned her head to look at the tables ahead, he recognized her face.

_What a small world! So she is a maid! I assumed correctly. _

He followed her to the tables.

'I am sorry, Miss? May I have a cup of punch?'

Mary looked up and almost dropped the tray. She quickly settled it on the table.

_It's he! It's Eric. But what do I do now?_

'Um, certainly Sir,' she said almost mechanically and took a glass.

'Thank you,' he said taking the glass. 'May I have the honour of your name?'

'I…don't give my name,' she said.

'I thought you would. After all, we've seen each other before, haven't we?'

Mary was panicking. The little girl had vanished into thin air. It seemed that she was all alone with him.

'I doubt it, although you look familiar,' she replied shyly and set about to arrange the silverware.

'You were the one eavesdropping, weren't you? You heard everything about me, didn't you?'

'Well no, I only heard very little,' she said, blushing. 'It wasn't my fault.'

'Yes, it was, it was very rude of you. Now tell me, what did you hear?' he asked, his tone light and playful.

'I heard what you said. You probably remember it better than I.'

'Well, you are a_ very_ impudent maid.'

'I won't tell anyone, if that is your concern,' she said looking at him.

'Oh, I had never even given it a thought,' he lied. 'But since you are offering so kindly…'

'I wouldn't have anyone to tell anyway.'

'Servants always talk among them. You never know.'

'Right, that is true. But I am a bit different,' she said.

'How do I know that?'

'Well, I guess you cannot. You will just have to take my word,' she said seriously.

He chuckled.

'Take a maid's word. Fine. Can I at least know what they call you?'

'Um…Mary.'

'Mary. Right well,' he said taking her hand, 'I appreciate your services, Mary.'

'Oh, and Sir?'

'Yes?'

'That woman, Miss Molly, as you called her, I believe she still likes you,' Mary said half-smiling.

He raised a brow, baffled.

'You were probably looking for her, weren't you?' she asked.

'Maybe I was. How are you so sure she likes me?'

'I just know, I have a vast experience of these things,' Mary lied.

'Yes I would believe that,' he said eyeing her suspiciously. 'Well, I can't take your word for more than one thing. Which is it; that you will not tell anyone or that Miss Molly likes me still?'

'Well, which is more important to you?' she asked.

He frowned, not knowing how to answer the question.

'I'd better go back to the kitchens now,' she mumbled embarrassed and bowed down, taking the large tray with her.

Eric watched her walk away with perplexity. But Mary walked away smiling.

She opened the small door and passed through it. She crossed the servants' hall and made a turn that led her to the back court. She leant against the wall, breathing heavily.


End file.
